


Your Touch

by YuMe89



Series: Consecrated Ground [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), Mentioned Oscar Wilde, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 18:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19447129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuMe89/pseuds/YuMe89





	Your Touch

Weeks had passed, since Crowley had taken Aziraphale to their impromptu holiday. The Angel was initially worried about his customers, but got over it rather quickly.

Crowleys kiss had been the first and last one, they shared. Aziraphale was not an Angel who knew how to initiate things like this. He was more the type of person who happened to be on the receiving end of it. What he did do, was hold the Demons hand sometimes, or slightly lean against him, when they sat beside eachother. The Demon seemed pleased enough, so he didn't think about it too much.

Touching, kissinig and making love, or to be blunt, intercourse, were Human inventions, meant to reproduce. Angels didn't need to reproduce, the Almighty created them. And a child between Angels and Humans was not only frowned upon, it could cause an Angel to Fall. God was not fond of any Nephilim.

Though, all this made sense for Aziraphale, he did like to be touched. Especially from Crowley. The blond Angel was just not sure how to talk about it. Ever the booknerd, Aziraphale studied books about anything he could find on that matter. He came rather quickly to the conclusion, that non of those things applied to him and Crowley. Could Demons even father a child? Did they have reproductive organs, or did they have to make an effort, just like angels?

The more he read and thought about it, more questions formed in his head, the previous ones not even answered yet.

He knew, that Crowley could've answered every question easily, but he was afraid he had to explain himself and his train of thought.

Aziraphale sat in his bookshop, sorting some of his new books into the shelfs, distracting himself. On his grammophone, Chopins Nocturne in E-flat major could be heard softly in the background. He hummed from time to time, not really hitting the pace or tone, but he didn't care. 

The last book found it's place and just as he made a turn, one of Oscar Wildes books came into few. It shouldn't even be on that shelf, it belonged in the backroom. "Crowley.", he huffed a bit annoyed. The serpent knew exactly how much this book meant to him, to put it within reach of any customers was too risky. He took it out and walked to his table in the backroom, opening a locked drawer and put the book back in. 

Suddenly, there was a knock. "We're quite definitely closed!", he said, aiming for friendly and hitting on irritated. "It's me.", he heard, followed by the jingle of the Bell, as Crowley opened the door.

"Speaking of the devil.", Aziraphale muttered under his breath, as the Serpent came into view. "What was that?", the Demon said with his trademark smirk. "Nothing, dear.", the Angel said, puttering about on his desk, desperate to look busy.

"So, how was your day?", Crowley asked nonchalant, leaning against one of the shelves. He was the only one who could look like a perp and millionaire at the same time. Maybe that was the reason everyone thought he belonged with to the mafia. 

"You put my book somewhere it didn't belong, you wily old serpent!", was all Aziraphale could say, he didn't even intent to talk about it. He just exploded, like a kettle sitting too long on the stove.

"Oh, we're talking about Oscar now?", both eyebrows raised, like a challenge. "Crowley, don't play dumb. You know how much it means to me. How could you possibly think, it wouldn't-", he stopped himself at once, looking anywhere but Crowley.

"Wouldn't, what?", he inquired, losing his slouched position, to stand straight and face his friend, lover, stupid Angel. Said Angel lowered his head. "...hurt me.", he admitted after a short time, in a barely noticeable tone.

"I'm sorry.", Crowley tried to sound as sincere as possible. He was sorry to have hurt Aziraphale, yes. He wouldn't've been sorry if the book got sold. It had been a childish act of jealousy, to put the book for any customer to see. 

"He was more than a friend, wasn't he?", the Demon asked, he already knew the answer anyway. "He was a dear friend of mine.", Aziraphale responded, not looking at Crowley. He rearranged some items on his desk. "Like me?", the Serpent wanted to know. "No.", was the short answer and it kind of hurt the Demon. "You're different.", was the next thing he heard of Aziraphale. "Different how?", he needed to know. Head slightly turned to the side, looking even more questioning.

At this, Aziraphale walked up to Crowley, stopping just inches from him. The books he had read came to mind and he decided to do something, he had never done before. Slowley, as if to not startle his friend, he raised his hand and touched Crowleys face soflty. The Demon didn't shy away, though, he looked tense, staring right into Aziraphales eyes, over the rim of his glasses. 

"In all this time we have been here on Earth, Human lifes are nothing more than the blink of an eye to us. No one could ever mean as much to me, as you do. You are my forever. Quite literally.", he said and than, all his courage scraped together, kissed Crowley softly on the lips. 

Just as he was about to take a step back, Crowley gripped his jacket and pulled him back in, to deepen their kiss. They stood like this for quite a while, soft lips moving agains another, until the Demon broke away from him, licking his lips and taking a few steps towards the loveseat, just to stop again and turn around, pointing a finger at Aziraphale accusingly, as if he just remembered something the Angel did.

"I saw you.", he said suddenly, still breathless, just like the Angel. "What are you talking about?", a puzzled Aziraphale said. Still confused about what he had initiated just mere seconds before. 

"Back then, 1885. You and Wilde.", Crowley clarified. It really seemed to bother him. Aziraphale went into deep thought, brows furrowed just a bit. "But we didn't cross paths for at least a century back then. How could you possibly have seen me and Oscar?", he was curious, unable to remember having seen the Demon at the time. He definitely would've known. 

"We did, you just didn't see me. I went to your bookshop and you didn't even hear the bell ring, as I walked in. The way you looked at eachother, I just turned and left immidiately.", Crowley admitted, not even trying to conceal the hurt he felt. 

"Oh dear. That was such a long time ago and nothing really happend. Yes, he did kiss me and I was flattered, but I just liked him as a friend. I loved his poems and books. That was all. I'm sorry it hurt you so much, that you didn't want to see me for that long. What happened to him was tragic and I regret not helping him back then, but I was confused, as he kissed me and our contact to one another turned to nonexistent.", he explained, making sure Crowley knew everything, a sorrowful expression on his face. 

Aziraphale made his way over to Crowley, taking the Demons hands into his. "I meant what I said. You are my forever."

They leaned towards eachother, forheads touching lightly. Aziraphale didn't need to hear Crowley say the same to him. He knew how the Demon felt about him. Previously, the Serpent had concealed his Love, but now, Aziraphale could see the radiant light coming off of Crowley, felt the warmth directed at him. It was overwhelming and beautiful.

"Wine?", the Demon asked suddenly and Aziraphale tried to stop the forming fond smile. He let go of Crowley, who sat down on the loveseat behind him and spread out like like usual, all long limbs streached out, as if he owned the place. "I have just the right one for this occasion.", the Angel said, leaving the room, just to re-enter it with a bottle of Inglenook Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley from 1945.

"How did you get that?", the Demon asked. "Well, I am in fact an Ethereal being.", Aziraphale said, causing Crowley to laugh out loud. He filled their glasses and sat down beside the love of his life. 

"To us.", Aziraphale said. "To us.", Crowley chinked their glasses. 

Maybe, the Angel thought, touching wasn't quite so bad. One of his hands finding Crowleys and linking their fingers. The warmth of the Serpents skin mingling with his own, sending little sparks up and down his spine, as Crowley stroked his thump back and forth. He guessed, Humans could've been onto something there, with all their high praise and longing for contact. 


End file.
